


A Challenge Worth Accepting

by CuriosityIsAWeakness



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M, cullrian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityIsAWeakness/pseuds/CuriosityIsAWeakness
Summary: A wager between Dorian and the Inquisitor gets out of hand when ulterior motives are revealed and the prize, a certain Commander of the Inquisition, decides to add a little mayhem to the mix.Snippet:The Inquisitor is such an incorrigible flirt. I would know, not just because I am the willing target of the incessant flirting but because the only person worse than her is myself. Why I persist in salacious bantering with this lovely lady Lavellan is beyond me, considering that my predilection towards males is generally known. I mean, those scowls from Mother Giselle can't all be from just being Tevinter, or a Mage, or a Tevinter Mage at that.Maybe I have confused the masses with my pursuit of anyone that appears willing. But, ah, if I were left to my own devices I would be openly hunting and aggressively cornering the mightiest game the Inquisition has to offer, the straight laced Lion of Ferelden, Commander Cullen Rutherford. With such glorious cheekbones and an ass as perfect as if carved from stone, he alone is hunt worthy enough for an Altus Mage, and I would rather enjoy mounting him against my wall. Or his wall. Or my bed.





	1. Interruptions

**Author's Note:**

> I made a deal with my friend that I wouldn't start multiple fanfics but I started reading some Cullrian and fell into the hole and can't seem to get out.  
> I let whatever was in my head pop out and it's in a weird, Dorian talking to himself kinda format (to which my friend said, why is Dorian talking fancy in his own head?)  
> So I'm posting this to see if it reads weird (or even gets read at all). The whole thing won't be from Dorian's view. I would tire myself out with all the superfluous adjectives and tangential thought patterns.
> 
> I just wanted to see if the writing style was valid or not as my friend tried to classify it and found that there was no classification.

The Inquisitor is such an incorrigible flirt. I would know, not just because I am the willing target of the incessant flirting but because the only person worse than her is myself. Why I persist in salacious bantering with this lovely lady Lavellan is beyond me, considering that my predilection towards males is generally known. I mean, those scowls from Mother Giselle can't all be from just being Tevinter, or a Mage, or a Tevinter Mage at that.

Maybe I have confused the masses with my pursuit of anyone that appears willing. But, ah, if I were left to my own devices I would be openly hunting and aggressively cornering the mightiest game the Inquisition has to offer, the straight laced Lion of Ferelden, Commander Cullen Rutherford. With such glorious cheekbones and an ass as perfect as if carved from stone, he alone is hunt worthy enough for an Altus Mage, and I would rather enjoy mounting him against my wall. Or his wall. Or my bed.

Which is probably why it irks me so to watch as the Inquisitor inserts herself into the middle of our chess match.

She has as much finesse with fine strategy as does a bear icing an Orlesian wedding cake. And why does she look so _hungry_ ? Andraste’s tits. I was wrong, she looks like the bear that is about to _eat_ the cake. A blond Ferelden beefcake.

Look at her. Holding her finger against the top of the chess piece with a tongue poking out of the side of her mouth, her dalish uncouthness on display. The Commander can't enjoy this can he?

I am more than aware that I am the proverbial pot calling the kettle black, but this is my territory and I intend to reclaim it.

“Did you play much chess in the forest? Were the pieces made out of animal bone and twigs?”

“Actually they were, but the colors were different. One set was ivory and the other was wood stained with the blood of our enemies.”

Cullen chuckled and the Inquisitor absolutely beamed. A twinge of jealousy clutched at my brain stem and would not let go. I found words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“You actually found that amusing?” Such an inelegant comeback. It screams of actually being caught off guard and unarmed, two things I pride myself on not being.

“I believe she won that exchange serah,” Cullen smirked, the corner of his scarred lip curling into the most adorable grin. I am now a pool of mush at my own feet. Who knew that Fereldens could be so damn cute? If I had known, I may have come South sooner.

I could get lost in those honey colored eyes, if only this Knight in shining armor would have eyes for me.

“Your move Commander.” The Inquisitor's singsong voice broke my mini reverie, and her unwelcome presence made itself known again. With barely a look at the board Cullen moved his rook and planted both elbows on the table and clasped his hands together.

“Well I believe the game is mine,” he said with a smirk. _Ha!_ Bravo.  

“Wait what?” Oh the look on the Inquisitor’s face. I wish Solas was here to paint me that sulking visage.

“Dorian cheats at this as well.” The Commander’s eyes glittered as he locked them on mine, crossing his arms across his oh so broad chest, and softly laughing at my expense.

“Fasta vass, you knew?” I tried my best to look indignant, but it's hard keeping up that facade when the Commander looks at you like that.

“Lord Pavus, I’m always watching you.” I swallowed at those words the lump traveling down my body into my loins. Maker, is he flirting with me? That grin he’s flashing me appears to be as genuine as it is cavalier.

“Someone has to keep an eye on ‘That Evil Magister.’” Ah, and there it is. The butt of his joke. It seems I shall never escape the taint that is Tevinter. Although, it might be because I flaunt my heritage to these Southron ruffians whenever the opportunity strikes. I’ve never quite been able to rein in my tongue, not that anyone has ever complained about it before.   

“Are you sassing me Commander? I didn’t know you had it in you.” I held his gaze a moment longer than was probably appropriate for the Commander of the Inquisition and a member of the inner circle, but I swear I could almost see a faint blush creeping onto his face. Was it a trick of the midday light or maybe-  

“Are you two playing nice?” _Venhedis!_ I forgot she was here again.

“I’m always nice.” I turned my attentions to Lanaya Lavellan, “Nice to look at that is,” and with a well practiced purr I added, “and nicer to wake up next to.” The air vibrated with unresolved tension as her lips parted for a comeback that she could not find. The Commander cleared his throat and coughed breaking the prolonged silence. 

“I should return to my duties. This may be the longest I’ve gone without discussing the inquisition or related matters. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, one of his many tells, as he spoke his next words at the direction of the chess board. “We should spend more time together.”

“I would like that-”

“I agree-”

I scowled at Lavellan as she returned the glower tenfold. Our easy banter just seconds earlier already forgotten as we spoke over each other, clearly jostling for the Commander’s attention.

“Perhaps drinks, tomorrow night, at Herald’s Rest, all of us?” Is Cullen really suggesting that we all get drunk together? That sounds like a wonderful and awful idea at the same time.

“Already drinking to compensate for the fear of my inevitable victory?”

“You’ll be drinking a long time before you see any signs of victory Lord Pavus.” Did someone place an extra dose of sass in the Commander’s lyrium today? Perhaps someone put magebane in my wine.

“Off your game today Dorian?” Lanaya’s smile stretched across her narrow elven face.

“Don’t get smug, there will be no living with you.”

The Commander stood, gloved hand on the pommel of his sword, imposing without meaning to be, and it’s that effortless air of danger that drives me wild. It riles me up almost as much as watching him go does.

And oh how I love watching him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So was that hard to read? Should I switch to like a Journal Entry Style?


	2. Libations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An invitation to drinks and some drunken banter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since people showed interested I figured I should at least get to the wager. So Voila! The wager.

I followed the sound of Cullen’s deep laughter through the rowdier than usual crowd at Herald’s Rest. Apparently my plan to show up fashionably late backfired and just bereft me of getting anywhere near the Commander. Surrounded by a ring of his troops, I realize now that his invitation was not a private one, but to a preplanned gathering. I hate when I misread a situation, but I shan’t waste the time I spent on grooming so I saunter over to the bar to let the other patrons admire me and my aloofness as I lean against it. 

As soon as I approached, Cabot wordlessly slid my regular order, a glass of Antivan Red, over to where I was standing. I hate to admit it, but I bowed my head down sheepishly as Cabot essentially outed me for being the drunkard that I am. Who can blame me though for indulging in some vices as I save the world? Well maybe they could blame me for the frequency of the visits.  And maybe for the quantity I imbibe. 

I glance back over to the Commander who’s golden curls are starting to come undone, and smile as I imagine myself running my hand through them. My little fantasy was interrupted as the Inquisitor’s slender fingers reached up to toy with a curl, wrapping it around a finger to emphasize the bounce as it sprung back into place.

_ Kaffas _ . He’s smiling at her. It’s so hard to restrain the sigh that wishes to escape my lips. I turn back to my glass and quickly down a third of it. I’ve let this little crush go on for far too long. There are other amenable bedfellows within the Inquisition. Why did I set such a lofty goal for myself? Oh, that’s right. I’m me. And I deserve the best. I down another third of liquid courage before realizing how cheap the wine actually is. I swirled the remaining third in my glass as my face scrunched at the hideous after taste. 

“That look is not good on you.” I spun to my side to see my quarry smirking in my face. His cheeks rosy from the alcohol, a slight sway in his posture and the Inquisitor in tow.

_ Fasta vass. _ How did they get over here so fast?

“I beg your pardon Commander, but if we are to discuss ‘looks’ your opinion would be the last one that I would seek. Unless I want to look like a barbarian covered in furs and a loincloth.”

“I meant your face.”  _ What did he just say? _ My jaw could not drop any lower. Even the Inquisitor's large eyes were blown wide open in utter shock. Complete and total. 

“Um. I meant, if you- It was scrunched-” The Commander fumbled over his words, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. “Dorian, I didn’t mean, that you aren’t pleasant to look at.”

“I’m not pleasant to look at?”

“No! Maker! I mean yes! Yes? Oh Andraste preserve me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his cheeks now fully red, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the way Cullen was stammering. I could forgive the errant comments. I mean, I know I’m pretty, but there was an admission from the Commander, somewhere in all of that, that he thought that I was pretty too.

“You’re late Dorian.” Lanaya threaded an arm around the Commander’s as he still hung his head in shame. Has their relationship progressed that she was openly pawing at him in public?

“Fashionably so. Or have you not been listening to Josephine titter on about Halamshiral?” I tried not to let their closeness bother me. I certainly would have continued my pursuit of an available man, but there is one thing that I am not. Well, there are many things that I am not. But I will not homewreck.

“Do not remind me. I have dancing lessons in the morning.” 

“If you’d prefer, I could teach you instead. I promise that there will be no classes before noon,” the Inquisitor’s eyes lit up. She must really hate morning dance lessons. “And you wouldn’t have to subject yourself to the dreadful whine that the Orlesians call music.” Did I just offer up my free time just so that I would have an opportunity to inquire about her relationship with the Commander? Why yes. Yes I did. And I can’t even blame the wine.

“But that’s what they’ll be playing at the Winter Palace.”

“If you have rhythm and a feel for the beat, you can dance to any song and make it look good. Especially with someone as dashing as me at your side.” The Commander chuckled at this and I narrowed my eyes at him. He straightened up and pointed his thumb at the Inquisitor on his arm.

“You clearly have not seen her dance.” It was her turn to narrow her eyes on her Commander.

“Far be it for me to decline a challenge.” Maker, what did I just volunteer for? “I need a drink. I’m afraid I have some catching up to do.”

“Alas, I must retire, morning drills with the recruits.” Bah, a waste of a night then.

The Commander put a hand on the Inquisitor’s arm before extricating himself from her grasp and brushed by me placing his gloved hand on my bare shoulder.  With a nod and a light squeeze he turned to head out the door. I, however, could hardly move, my shoulder both tingling and burning from his touch. It was an innocent touch, a pat on the shoulder between comrades, yet I yearned for it to be more and it felt like moving would ruin it.

“You like him.” Aaaand now its gone. How does she always ruin it? I flagged Cabot down, as I drained the rest of my swill. 

“No more of that piss. Something stronger. Something dark.” Cabot reached for something below the bar.

“Make that two.” The Inquisitor tossed some silvers onto the bar. Cabot tilted his head thoughtfully before disappearing into the back. Was he going to serve me something inferior to what he was going to serve the Inquisitor? A question for another day. I filed it away. Perhaps I could guilt him into a free beverage.

“Inquisitor, I don’t think I’ve seen you drink.”

“Well, I don’t have lessons in the morning.”

“Touche.” Cabot set two glasses in front of us, and poured a rich brown colored liquor. 

“And maybe I would like to try something stronger, and something dark.” She lifted her glass and clanked it against mine. 

“Are you flirting with me my dear?” I picked up my glass and held it to my lips, coyly looking over the top of the glass as I took a sip. Oh that’s smooth. I took a much longer sip, letting the burn slide down my throat. I felt more relaxed already.

“Isn’t that what we do?” She took a matching sip, eyes wide as she swallowed. I could not help but smirk at her inexperience.

“But what will they say?”

“Mmm. Look at that Vint corrupting the Inquisitor.” She giggled behind her glass. Was she tipsy already?

“You’re right. That is what they will say.” I drained the rest of my glass. The Inquisitor threw back her head and kept up. 

“This liquor is meant for sipping.”

“Shush Cabot, and pour us another.” I flashed my winning grin, the one that has gotten me out of many sticky situations, and possibly also into many sticky situations, of the horizontal sort.

“So, do you like him?” She thrust her arm out to Cabot, as he poured us each a refill. I did intend to sip it this time and I made a grand show of placing my glass back on the table, if only to get the wary barkeep, to focus on his other patrons.

“Do I fancy the Commander?” She nodded, slightly swaying in her seat. “What’s not to like? The Commander is an attractive man. I mean, you would know.”

“Me?” She hiccupped. Too cute. She is tipsy.

“Yes, I didn’t see the good Commander wearing any other accessory. Or did you mistake him for a tree, dangling from his arm like that.” She let out an indelicate snort. The likes of which surprised the both of us to the point of tears. She leaned close to me, beckoning me to hunch over to the shorter elf.

“Do you think he likes me?” Well, shit. I guess I didn’t need to sign away my afternoons, the Inquisitor would have answered all my questions with one drink.

“I saw him smiling at you.” My honest answer.

“I saw him smiling at you too.” 

“Maybe that shouldn’t be the determining factor.” My head was starting to swim. What was in that stuff?

“We could see who he falls for first?”

“Are you suggesting that we compete for the Commander’s affections?” This is a terrible idea. I should say that outloud.

“It’s a challenge then?”

“A challenge?”

“Yes. If I recall you don’t decline them.” Ahhh, using my own words against me. When will I ever learn to not be so clever.

“I'm afraid Inquisitor, that you have a small advantage.” I reached out to motion at her breasts, but I misjudged the distance and ended up cupping the bottom of the Inquisitor's right breast. Curiosity piqued, I jiggled the boob as well to test it's perkiness. The Inquisitor's eyes widened, but then slipped into a sly gaze. “I'm afraid that I will never find the amusement that my counterparts so indulge in.” Lanaya had a weird look on her face and at the moment I realized that I just groped the Inquisitor in front of everyone in Herald’s Rest. “Sorry Lanaya, that was uncalled for.” 

“I would have stopped you if I wanted to.” I knew that already. Even inebriated she would have peppered me with nine daggers before I could blink.

“No, it’s not that. I’m sorry I called them small. They are quite ample.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had more lines to this, but I had to end on "ample."


	3. Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian attempts to do the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, writing this made me think my Cullen was too ... 'carefree' ... and I ended up starting up another more angsty story just so I could keep this Cullen on the lighter side.

I will be the first to admit that my attraction to the Commander was purely physical at first. I mean, look at the man. He would have been worshipped even if he was not the Commander of the Inquisition. I know I'd certainly follow any orders from him if I was fortunate enough to be under his command, or under him literally. And I’d probably capitulate in a heartbeat if I was his adversary. Soldiers have always been enjoyable company. Tirelessly beating swords against shields benefits the body in ways that a staff cannot match. And I cannot say that I haven't partaken in some “rigorous” activities myself. It's thrilling to be held down and pretend to be helpless. One cannot be a prodigy and a pariah every minute of every day. There is also an added air of danger knowing that Cullen was once a Templar. Trained in the art of countering mages. I hear these southern Templars are more formidable than the docile house cats we have at home. And if they are all built anything like the Commander, then I might as well just drop my smalls and bend over.

But there is something about the Fereldan. I didn't see it at first, but now I see … something. Even if I'm not sure what I want to call it. I guess I should have expected that he was good at strategy and tactics. He is a Commander after all. Of the Inquisition no less. With an army at his back to rival Nations. An army that will save the world, with my help of course. Why I thought he just banged his sword on the war table and yelled for more troops is beyond me. Maybe, it’s the same as everyone assuming I practice blood magic. Old prejudices will never die, even if I try to bludgeon it out of their thick Fereldan skulls. It’s frustrating fighting things that you can’t kill with fire. Things like slavery, getting Solas to wear shoes, and the Commander to wear anything other than his armor. Well, I guess, I could set his armor on fire, although he does get terribly attached to things.

And that is why I owe it to the Commander to inform him of our wager. It's not fair to toy with anyone's emotions and while I am sure that I am attracted to the Commander, I am not sure if these are what anyone would call _feelings._ Simpler just to let him know before anyone gets hurt. 

I rapped on his clunky oak door and waited for a bit before realizing that my delicate knocks were like a gnat in a monsoon. It's the middle of the day, surely the Commander wouldn't be doing anything untoward.

“Commander?”

Apparently my timing is impeccable. The man had just removed his breastplate and I could finally see what lay beneath all those layers of metal and fur. Of course, he still had his gambeson on but the outline of his taut muscles could still be seen through the shirt. He rotated his shoulder, the sinew flexing with each motion and I would have sighed if he didn't turn to look at me over his shoulder.

“Lord Pavus, you wouldn't know a healing spell would you? I tried to catch one of my recruits from falling and he in turn tried to wrench my arm off.” Cullen lifted his arm again and winced. I opened my mouth to speak but realized I didn't have any air in my lungs. Somewhere along the way I had ceased breathing.

“Healing doesn't quite go with necromancy, but there is something I could try.” I practically floated over to the Commander, giddy as a maid about to be deflowered by her love.

“If you don’t mind.” I placed my hands on his powerful shoulder and channeled some ice to numb the pain. The Commander intuited my plan, and removed his protective padding, revealing his perfect skin to my hands. I ran my chilled fingers over the exposed flesh, and the Commander shivered at the touch. I applied slightly more pressure until I found the area that ailed the Commander the most, and focused a localized blast of cold. The ex templar shuddered at the magic and I worried that I had gone too far, until he let out a satiated sigh.

“That feels quite nice.”

“Likewise.” I think I stopped breathing again. The Commander tilted his head to eye me over his shoulder. I would have blushed if there was any blood left in my veins.

“Did you need something Lord Pavus?”

Ha. I had a bevy of responses to that _. A thorough rutting_ , was first, followed by _your hands on my cock,_ and chased with a simple _you._ I shook my head at the last thought. The first two thoughts served baser needs, the third however, was dangerous and better kept sequestered somewhere that wasn't anywhere near my person. I cleared my throat and hoped that he did not read into the long pause after his question while I sorted out a _proper_ response rather than my instinctual flippant remark that would poorly conceal my deeper desires.

“I came to inform you of a silly wager that I may have made with the Inquisitor.”

“May have? The tavern must have been quite dull without me for you to have seen the bottom of enough cups to make you forget.” He smirked at me, the corner of his scarred lip curling and tempting me to bite it.  “If so, let me also remind you that gambling is not a crime in Skyhold. If it was, there would be no soldiers left to fight the battle against Corypheus.” His smile was smug, as if he was proud of his retort. I must admit his snarky comebacks have improved.

“Have you been cheating on me Commander?”

“Cheating??” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, his instinctual nervous tick. I find it more adorable than I should, but I find the flustered look on his face even more adorable than a box of kittens.

“Your sass level has increased tenfold and while I'd like to attribute this to my influence, there must be another whetstone to which you sharpen your wits.”

“Ah, well, no. Just you Dorian.” Ah he said my name. How nice to hear it roll off his tongue. This man can distract me with just the cadence of his voice.

“Then congratulations. You are officially armed enough to compete in a battle of wits. You're welcome.” I gently patted his shoulder, the last pat lingering on the border of impropriety.

“Was that a compliment Lord Pavus?”

“Why yes, it is a testament to my ability to train a southern barbarian the delights of verbal warfare. Far less bloody, and far more demeaning.”

“Your ability? And not my ability?”

“Please Commander. I said you were armed. I didn't say you could win.”

“Apparently not.” Cullen let out a bark of laughter which was quite appealing on this normally serious man. I’m glad to see that all my effort into getting him out of his shell was not for naught.

“Mabaris should never taunt a dragon.” I tut-tutted gesturing with my index figure, berating as one would to a child.

“Well, I know someone who has _slain_ a dragon. You best be careful, lest I unleash her upon you.”

“She's out of luck. There is only one sword that can impale this dragon.” I ghosted my hand over his crotch as I made the statement, letting the insinuation hang in the air.

Cullen blinked once, then twice. “Uh-”

“The Inquisitor uses daggers. Were you thinking of something else, Commander?” I leaned over him to pat the belted dagger at his hip as if it was my intention all along. He watched as I retracted and sauntered away around his desk needing to hide my excitement. I just can't help myself. He turns such a lovely shade of pink.

Cullen cleared his throat. “I was thinking of the Inquisitor,” _Well_ , that is certainly not the response I was hoping for, “and your wager?” _Ah,_ deflection. When no other response will do.

“Yes, well we made a wager, _for you_ ,”

“For me? You made a bet on my behalf?”

“No, not **_for_ ** you. For **_you_ ** _.”_

“I’m the prize?”

“Don't let it get to your head.” Cullen stood, his bare and broad chest squared to me and on display. His physique was the embodiment of what one sees on marble statues in Tevinter, in fact he could have been the inspiration which the sculptors carved their mortal gods and heroes of old. He definitely did not disappoint me, although there are far more scars in reality than in my dreams. I began the process of recording them all for later.

“Well, if I am the prize, then what exactly is the bet?”

“Who you would fall for first.” I pondered whether or not I should divulge the truth, but I saw no harm in doing so.

“Is that so.” Cullen tilted his head as if he just thought of something. “Is that what this is?” He waggled his finger between us.

“What what is?” I wasn't sure what he was implying.

“Is this your strategy for wooing?”

“Wooing?” He thinks this is wooing?

“Or is there a certain state of undress that would be considered a victory?” The Commander circled his desk, with casual dangerousness, his hand trailing along the top of his desk.

“Undress?” I swallowed hoping that my erection was not obvious, Maker willing.

“Was it a kiss? Or were you to bed me?” Cullen had herded me to a corner. Why was he so good at that?

“I … we … never discussed that.”

“That's a shame. You could have won right now.” He leaned in closer, I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Oh Maker, _yes._ It feels so wrong, yet feels so right.

“Commander-” It would be so easy to just reach out and pull him in and lave him with wet and sloppy kisses.

“Yes Lord Pavus?” He smiled again, my breath hitched, unintentionally. This level of escalation was unforeseen and those suppressed emotions have taken the opportunity to say hello in the midst of all the confusion.

“Cullen, I-” This can't be how it starts. Not like this. The apprehension on my face must have been apparent, as Cullen regarded me thoughtfully and retreated back to the other side of his desk.

“Forgive me, I have made you uncomfortable.” He picked up a report and began reading it as if nothing was amiss. I let a solid minute pass by before I stalked to the front of his desk with this strange feeling of having been played.

“Are you toying with me Commander?”

“I am not an easy lay Ser Pavus. What would they think of the Commander of the Inquisition, if he fell into bed with every willing party?”

“I dare say they will think that the Commander an unquestionably virile man.”

He blushed as he chuckled. “You really do have a response for everything.” Cullen gestured for me to take the seat across from him, but I waved him off preferring to stand. The power in the room was unbalanced and I needed to shift it back to me. Sitting felt like losing some how. He nodded at me as he continued, “I've had some time to think about this wager.”

“Time?” What's this about?

“Yes, Lanaya actually told me about it this morning.”

“Why would she tell you?” That sneaky fox.

“I'm assuming the same reason you came here to tell me.”

“Wait, you knew this whole time?” I planted a fist on the table in mock anger when it was more for my own support. Letting the Commander see my knees wobble isn't helping my case and I find myself wishing that I had not declined that seat.

“I was unsure if you were actually _trying_ or if-” The Commander trailed off, “No matter. I'm honestly quite flattered and a handful intrigued. Now that I know what game is afoot I can serve as the judge.”

“You mean to continue this farce? Since when do you have time for all this?”

“Perhaps I need a reprieve from all these reports, or perhaps I want to play too. Constantly beating the lot of you at Chess can get quite boring and all I really have to do is tell you both how bad you're doing.” The Commander’s grin was quite dashing. It’s hard to refuse his request.

“Maybe I don't want to play this game anymore Commander. The wager is as good as off as far as I'm concerned.” I put on my most petulant pout even though I had no intention of backing out. Curiosity is a weakness and I need to know why Cullen is still playing along.

“Well, you do have a penchant for losing. Capitulation must be second nature.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from narrowing. Oh, the Commander plays dirty. I’ll wipe that smirk off his face… Oh .. but...

“But what about Lanaya?” I couldn’t carry on in good conscience if she would somehow get hurt.

“Oh she … has her reasons for still playing. Lanaya doesn't know you know, but she knows I know and she thinks the game is still on.” I arched a brow at the confusing statement.

“This is getting far more complicated than I care to care.” That was nearly the truth.

“The challenge to court me Lord Pavus is still open, I won't stop you.” That offer is so tempting.

“So, are you going to be playing hard to get?” I bit my bottom lip and leaned partially on the desk presenting my best angle, bare shoulder in full view. It seemed futile to make the attempt at being alluring, but I was not about to leave his office without an implication of more.

“I don't need to play, I am hard … to get.” Cullen simpered, pausing intentionally and at that moment I realized I may be in over my head, like a snake trying to consume a druffalo.

“We shall see Commander. I warned you about provoking the dragon. Are you prepared to be vanquished?” I leaned harder over the desk forcing Cullen back in his seat, his impish grin matching my own.

“Woof.”


End file.
